I Miss You
by EllieLover
Summary: What happens when a Thursday goes horribly wrong? A Mavin fic


**I Miss You.**

_**Hey there! This is my first story on , so any feedback you can give is greatly accepted! This story was inspired by the Avril Lavigne song, I Miss You.**_

Micheal raised the dark amber bottle to his lips, swallowing back the harsh liquid without a second thought. He'd locked his doors, drawn his shades, turned off all communication devices even though he knew no one would attempt to contact him today. Today was the day he had to be alone. It was the only way he managed to cope for so long. He closed his eyes as he fell back on his pillows, clutching his whisky as a type of anchor. He took a steadying breath as he waited for the drunken affects to take place. This part was always the hardest. Waiting to be unafraid. Only under the alcohols influence, secluded in his bedroom with no one to hear him, was he brave enough to remember.

It was a Thursday.

The weather was mild, warm with the smallest implication of a slight, brisk breeze. Most people were out on foot, enjoying the sunshine with the ones they loved. Everyone in the Rooster Teeth office was cheery, keeping most of the windows open to let in that hint of wind. There were even more jokes tossed around than usual, keeping the air light and fun to correspond with the gorgeous day.

No one even blinked an eye when Gavin declared he was going out for lunch.

Due to the fact he had been editing a video, he was going on his break later than the rest of the office. Just before he left, however, he stopped at Micheal's desk, tapping the Jersey boy on the shoulder lightly.

"Hey Micheal."

"Mmm?"

"I'm going to lunch. I know you've already eaten, but do you fancy coming with-'

"Gavin, I'm recording."

"Oh c'mon Michael!"

"No, Gavin! Leave me the fuck alone!"

Hurt at the sharpness his friend was giving him, he turned away quickly, muttering something about being back in ten.

Twenty minutes later, Geoff got the call.

A car had hit Gavin, killing him on impact.

Micheal remembered everyone's reactions as clearly as if it had been yesterday.

Geoff was in tears, hardly holding any type of composure together. Jack stood stunned for a moment, before running to a phone to call someone, anyone that could help. Ryan was wringing his hands, on the verge of some sort of breakdown he was determined not to have. Ray was utterly silent, staring at Gavin's desk, breathing shallowly.

And Micheal?

He did nothing.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could feel. It hadn't registered, because it hadn't happened. Gavin wasn't dead! He couldn't be dead! Only half an hour ago the idiot was bugging him to go to lunch! It couldn't be true!

It was months later that Micheal realized how permanent those reactions would be, aside from his own.

It was about two weeks after that he finally snapped.

He had tried calling Gavin for the millionth time to tell him to quit fucking around, that this joke just wasn't funny anymore. That Geoff was absolutely miserable, that Jack was still searching for help, that Ryan was still panicking, that Ray hadn't uttered a word.

It was the tenth time he heard Gavin's answering machine that it hit him like a truck.

Gavin was dead.

He wasn't going to pick up.

Ever.

_I hope you can hear me, 'cause I remember it clearly._

"GAVIN!"

Micheal was screaming into his pillows, sobbing violently as his body trembled from the sheer force of his crippling sorrow. He should've payed more attention. He should've said more things he'll never be able to say, should've withheld more things he can never take back.

His stupid smile, his stupid laugh, his stupid eyes, his stupid accent, his stupid grasp of the English language, his stupid catchphrases, his stupid video game skills.

"GAVIN!"

Maybe if he kept screaming someone would answer.

For months after the funeral, the office was somber.

The joyful feeling spring had brought was effectively sucked right out of the building, leaving a sense of gloom over everyone. Geoff's drinking had skyrocketed to an all time high, to the point where he was even getting wasted during the work day just to make it through. Jack had become desperately helpful, plunging himself into work to take his mind off the dorky British boy that he used to share an office with. Ryan had become horrifically nervous, refusing to let anyone leave the office without another person beside them at all times. Ray was still utterly silent, only speaking when directly spoken too.

And Micheal?

Micheal hurt.

He continued to rage, indirectly screaming about Gavin in each and every game. He yelled about stupid accents, he yelled about nice scenery, he yelled about stupid fucking drivers.

No one mentioned it.

Why Gavin? What did Gavin ever do to deserve dying in such a horrific way?

I mean yeah, he could be annoying, but he wasn't annoying enough to die.

Why did Gavin have to die?

The car accident was brutal, so the casket was closed. Which Micheal supposed was a blessing in disguise, so he could remember Gavin the way he was.

Alive.

Everyone said kind words to make him feel better, but he honestly couldn't remember a single word. It was all a blur of mourning, tears, and angry words bottled up.

Micheal had tried his hardest to convince himself it wasn't his fault, but after a while, he couldn't lie to himself. If he had gone to lunch with Gavin, like a good person, he might still be alive right now.

Gavin was dead. Even now, Micheal still had nightmares about his body crumpling to the asphalt, blood pouring from a horrific gash on his head. He imagined screaming as strangers called to save the person he loved.

He should've been there.

Micheal was crying as he chugged the remainder of his whiskey, staring up at the ceiling with blurry vision.

"You fuck! You fucking fuck! Why did you leave me! Why did I let you go?! You dumbass!"

The screaming continued for hours, slowing to slurs and quiet crying as the alcohol numbed his unbearable pain. He knew everyone in the office was coping a different way. Geoff was most likely doing something similar to what he'd been doing all along, drinking his problems away. Jack would most likely be working late, mourning on his own time. Ryan was most likely in therapy, talking his problems out with someone who didn't give two fucks about Gavin. Ray was most likely playing video games, crying silently to himself in his apartment.

And Micheal?

Micheal was remembering.


End file.
